It doesn't seem like it has been ten years, but it has.
Ten years and eight months ago, I was lying on the bathroom floor bawling because I was going to have another baby. These were not happy tears. Oh, no! These were panic tears. Hailey was only six months old, at the time, and she was.... high maintinence. I thought God must have been out of his ever lovin' mind, because if a positive pregnancy test was his idea of a joke, then I clearly didn't get the punch line.
I was scared.
Three and a half weeks later, I had a change of heart in the form of cramps and bleeding. I knew I was miscarrying, since miscarriage rates run high in my family. But when I saw his tiny heart beating on that ultrasound that day, I decided I wanted this child. I still had a bad attitude about the timing, but I didn't want to lose him. By then, I had decided that he was a boy, and settled on his name. (good thing he wasn't a girl! I don't know any female Calebs.)
The rest of the pregnancy went smoothly. Mostly, I was busy with my baby girl, and the time flew.
At my last doctor's appointment, when he scheduled me to be induced the next Tuesday, I didn't pay any attention to the date. I was just so over being pregnant. But later, when I called my sister to tell her, I realized that my son would be born on her son's tenth birthday.
Ten years ago today, I went to the hospital and met my son. It wasn't until I saw his face that I fell in love with him.
He is my delight. He is my heart. He is a pain in the hiney, and I will never be the same.